


Fast and Loose

by finch (afinch)



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:53:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/pseuds/finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Miller, you've got to go for the head!" </p><p>"I can't do that! I'll kill him!"</p><p>Leave it to Miller to have a conscience.</p><p>"Hit him on the head anyway!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fast and Loose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethfury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethfury/gifts).



> Do not fear being on the PH list! For your prompt was too awesome to ignore and I snatched it up and zombified the heck out of poor little Broadchurch! 
> 
> Happy Christmas!

DI Hardy rubbed his head and stared at Miller. "Explain it to me again," he finally said. 

She looked nervous. "There have been reports of people being attacked. By zombies." It sounded absurd, but the reports had come from all over Broadchurch, not just one location. "It doesn't appear to be a hoax, sir."

"There can't be zombies. There is no such thing as zombies. We still have a murder to solve!"

Now it was Miller's turn to rub her head. She still looked nervous. "I understand, sir, but I think we should go investigate at least one of these claims."

"Of zombies."

"Right, of zombies. And if it turns out to just be the kids playing because of Danny, or something, we'll handle that when it comes. But I don't think that's the case." She was displaying some nerve in her absolute certainty that they should go look. Hardy found it respectable that she at least knew how to stick to her guns when she got an idea in her head. 

"All right," he conceded. "Just one quick look, and then we get back to murder solving. The family is going to have kittens when they find out."

Miller was looking through her notes, "Ah, looks like one of the calls came from the Latimer's. Said Chloe was acting a bit weird and they had to chase the boyfriend out of the house as he was looking more than peckish toward the whole family." She looked up at Hardy, "Not quite sure what that bit means. We might as well start there."

Hardy rubbed his head, again. He knew the family wasn't being completely honest about their whereabouts that night. Maybe they could use this to get some answers. He nodded, and grabbed his coat. "Off we go, then."

Something was wrong from the moment they left the station. There was nobody on the streets. Belatedly, Hardy realised the phone in the office hadn't rung for some time after Miller had come into his office. He glanced over at her; she knew the town better than he did, and knew how off things were. 

"They're all hiding," she said, after noticing his gaze. "Even Paul's not out at his flower shop, and he never leaves that thing. Something's got them all spooked."

"All right, Miller," Hardy said. "Aside from zombies, what else could have the town running scared like this?"

Miller thought about the question for a moment before dismissing it, which Hardy appreciated. It meant she respected him - or at least his position - and right now he was glad to have it. "Unless there were some disaster," Miller said. "The town wouldn't just hide. Not like this. Besides, all these calls, sir? They don't all say 'there's a zombie in my house,' but there's really nothing else it could be. 'Strange man, with skin hanging from his bones, tried to bite me'. And another, here 'Very grey woman barged through door, ate my cat. Bludg'ed her with bat, locked her in the wardrobe'. There's … at least a dozen of these."

"Read me the one from the Latimer's." 

"Chloe fled from boyfriend, boyfriend forced his way into house, acting strange, boyfriend pushed outside, family barricaded inside," Miller read.

Hardy frowned, "You'd said that back at the station. Did we know Chloe had a boyfriend?"

Miller shook her head, looking at the note quizzically, "They didn't name him, either, when they called. Just 'Chloe's Boyfriend."

"This family!" Hardy spoke through gritted teeth as they pulled up to the house on an empty street. "Can't even be honest about a boyfriend!"

"I'm sure there's a reas-" Miller began, but Hardy cut her off with a wave of his hand. He was sick of the excuses. Miller was more than happy to be patient and allow the family to get away with lying and sneaking. She knew them too well, that was her problem. She was too close to it. He, on the other hand, was going to berate the family until he was blue in the face and threaten to arrest anyone who continued not to comply with the investigation.

"There's the boyfriend," Miller pointed. 

Sure enough, there was a boy pulling at the door trying to get in. Several of the windows had been smashed, but there were blockades around them. 

"What are you doing there, son?" Hardy called, keeping his tone light and fresh. Terrorising the family was only going to further hinder the investigation into Danny's death. 

"I wouldn't!" Miller said, pulling on his arm. It took him a quick second to see what Miller was so scared of: the boy had dead eyes, was greyer than any human should look, and his skin was literally sagging. It was revolting. 

"Let's leave the family alone and talk about this," Hardy tried to reason. 

The boyfriend was having none of it and growled at the both of them. He had Danny's field hockey stick in his hand and seemed like he was contemplating charging the two of them. 

"Miller, radio the station for backup," he ordered. At least if this boyfriend attacked, he'd go through him first, and leave Miller be. It was instinctive to put himself ahead of her - it was what a good DI would do, right? Hardy hoped so. Miller was acting scared, and he was scared as well, but he couldn't well act it out. 

"Son, put the bat down. We don't want anyone to get hurt, do we?"

"Don't hurt 'im!" yelled a voice from up the house. 

"Get back inside!" Hardy yelled at Chloe. "Stay away from the windows."

The boyfriend - whose name Hardy still didn't know; Miller hadn't told him, he wondered if even Miller knew - had taken Chloe's shouts as an invitation to attempt to climb the walls of the house to get up to her. 

"Oh, no you don't," Hardy muttered, charging at the boy. He wrapped his arms around the boys legs and pulled. Both tumbled to the ground, Hardy surprised to find how strong the boy was. As they struggled, Hardy realised the boy wasn't trying to pin him down, but was trying to bite the side of his neck. 

He didn't even have to yell for Miller; she'd picked up the stick and was whacking the boy with it as hard as she could. Hardy could feel the vibrations from the stick - she was packing quite the punch, but the boy wasn't yielding at all. It was as if he couldn't feel the beating at all. "Miller, you've got to go for the head!" he managed to gasp out. 

"I can't do that! I'll kill him!"

Leave it to Miller to have a conscience.

"Hit him on the head anyway!" he yelled. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last in this desperate struggle.

"Don't hurt him!" Chloe yelled again, and this time Hardy was grateful. It distracted the boy, who stopped his attack of Hardy to look up at the voice. In one move, Hardy grabbed the stick from Miller, and cracked the boy over the skull.

"Dean!" Chloe screamed as the boy - Dean - fell to the ground, his skull cracked neatly. 

Hardy thought Dean actually dead until he rolled over, his dead eyes managing to look properly angry. 

"All right," Hardy said, dropping the stick. He spoke very quietly, "Miller, back to the car. We're going back to the station."

"We can't just leave them!"

He shook his head, backing up from Dean slowly, "We don't have a choice."

"We can't just leave him!"

"Detective Miller, I am ordering you back to the car," Hardy said, his voice stern. She obviously disagreed, shooting him a venomous look, but she complied. Hardy looked up to the window where Chloe had been shouting from. "You stay there, we'll be back for you as soon as we can!"

Dean was getting to his feet, so Hardy did the only reasonable thing - he ran. Miller already had the car started, and screeched off the second he was clear. From the mirror, Hardy could see Dean attempting to chase after the car.

"What was that?" Miller asked, her voice timid. 

Hardy groaned. "Miller, that was a zombie."

"The zombies that don't exist?"

He ignored that. "We've got to protect the Latimer family - where are you going?"

"I've got to see if my own family is all right. There are zombies about!"

"Can we not call them zombies?" 

She looked over at him, "What else would we call them?" 

"I've no idea, but not zombies."

Now she ignored him, pulling up to her street. "You stay in the car, I'll only be a minute."

She didn't have to wait long, Tom came running out of the house, and Miller had him wrapped in a hug before Hardy could shout to warn her. With a terrible ferocity, the boy arched his jaw over his mother's neck, and bit down hard. 

Hardy was too horrified to move, at first. "Miller!" he yelled from the car. He wasn't getting out, not with her son hovering over her excitedly like that. 

Miller stood, and the difference from moments ago was shocking. She now had grey skin and dead eyes, though the skin wasn't falling off her bones. Not yet. When their eyes locked, he moved, sliding over to the drivers seat and flooring the accelerator. Not too soon, as Miller had lunged for the car, her arm caught in the window. 

The car dragged her for a block before she fell off, Hardy speeding back to the station house, not stopping for anything. There were zombies - actual zombies, in Broadchurch. The station would be the safest place for now, especially as the zombies didn't seem to be attacking all over the place. 

There were still people in hiding, and still the Latimer family to protect from Dean. As for Miller - Hardy tried to ignore the pain that was moving through his chest and into his throat. He couldn't have a panic attack, not now. He had to get to the station house. Just a few more miles, and he'd be fine. 

His chest seized and his eyesight wavered. "No, no, not now," he begged. "Not now, come on. You had to leave Miller, you would have died if you hadn't. You had to leave her. Not now, come on."

It was to no avail - the pain of leaving Miller settled in his chest and his heart attacked it, squeezing desperately. He slumped over the wheel, the car careening down the hill in town to send him toppling off the dock and into the bay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, AD for the super fast Britpick!


End file.
